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“Mouth!”

This morning, I quipped something to Madame while I sat at the table, sipping my coffee and doing my typical morning wake up routine.

“Okay, mouth!” was her equally terse reply.

And that was it.

But then, my mind went elsewhere. In my mind, it continued more like this.

Madame soon returned into the dining room and stood in front of me. I looked up. “That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble. In fact, it has. Up! Now!” She pulled me by my robe to get me up, then moved her grip to the tip of my cock, squeezing it tightly and pulling me to follow her. My robe fluttered open and loose as she walked me, her feet stomping, into the bedroom. Releasing her grip on my cock she grabbed the back of my head, pushed me against the bed and bent me over. “Down there. Don’t fucking move.”

She walked out of the room for a minute and then returned, locking the door behind her. I stayed in position, bent over the bed at the waist, my head turned to the right as my left cheek rested on the covers. Her hand grabbed my hair roughly. “Open!” she barked. I opened and into my mouth went a bar of soap. “I can’t believe you need to be reminded so soon. Didn’t I just beat you for your mouth a few days ago? Did you learn nothing? I don’t have time to be correcting you every time. And the roommates sure as hell don’t need to hear this so you’re going to keep quiet. Don’t you dare scream, even if you want to. And don’t you dare move.”

She walked behind me and left me on the bed, the soap between my teeth. I knew she was grabbing a cane from the little niche behind the dresser.

She spoke quietly but sternly as she reminded me “You keep quiet. I don’t want to hear anything from you. And I don’t have time for this, so I’m just going to cane you as much as I damn well think is appropriate.” I whimpered.

Normally our canings are slow and steady, giving one’s body time to react to each of the strokes as they reverberate through the body. But this time, she would give me no such rest. She beat me, hard, and just whipped at my ass incessantly. I couldn’t even count as the fire of the cane went through my ass, I tried to grit my teeth but only got more soap for my efforts. I wanted to cry out, but could not. 10, 20, 30 swats, she just kept at it. I really lost track but I think she laid down 40 or so strokes to my ass. She did nothing to spread them out, they all landed solidly in the middle of my ass, all overlapping and raising some proud welts immediately.

She had finished, my ass was on fire, drool dripped onto the bed from the end of the bar of soap. She grabbed my hair and pulled me up off the bed, but only far enough to put me on my knees in front of the bed. She wrenched my head back. I coughed and sputtered with the soap in my mouth as the drool tried to slide into my throat. “Cry if you want, pup, but do not yell. Do not dare to touch your ass. Crawl over to wall, put your forehead against it and you just kneel there until I come back. And don’t drop that soap.” As I weakly crawled across the floor, she stripped me of the robe as I moved, leaving me naked and kneeling in front of the wall.

Okay, so that’s a fantasy, perhaps I came up with more as I wrote it, but the basic premise of her not putting up with my being mouthy is what was in my head. And whipping my ass rapidly with a cane, demanding my quiet due to roommates, and putting me “in the corner” or against the wall, was the end point. At the table with my thoughts, my cock swelled. But in the fantasy, up against the wall, my cock retreated, no signs of arousal. This was a punishment and minutes later, the fire in my ass would feel exactly like a punishment.

The reality is that we are getting ready to have time apart in the coming week. And we DO have roommates who have to be considered. And one of the roommates was in the bathroom, so the soap would have been an issue. And even being quiet, with the bathroom right next to our room, that would be an issue too. So we have these limits. But I wouldn’t begrudge her the idea of punishing me for being tart with her. Perhaps, reading this, she might see it and want to enact such a punishment in future infractions. Of course, I also don’t want to be her petulant child! Just her pet. ;) So, maybe we just talk more about it later. And maybe, the next time I’m short with her, I’ll find myself with a mouthful.